‘I first met you here, didn’t I?’ he said.
She nodded. ‘And then you saw me here the second time, the night I followed you to the pub.’
‘I remember,’ he said. ‘You shouted something to me, but I was in such a hurry I didn’t even realize you were following me.’
‘It was thanks to you I got that job. He never would have believed I was eighteen if it hadn’t been for you. But I’ve always wondered: how did you know my name?’
Stan’s lips twisted into a smile and he tapped the side of his nose with his finger.
‘Ah, that’s not fair,’ she complained. ‘Go on, tell me, I really want to know.’
‘No big mystery. After seeing you the first time, I asked one of your mates from the factory who you were. They told me your name.’
Elsie laughed. ‘Simple as that!’ But she did feel flattered. Her instincts about this lad were serving her well. She didn’t have long to dwell on the thought, though, because Stan put his hand up behind her head and pulled her face towards his. Then he kissed her full on the lips. At first, Elsie was surprised. Then she relaxed as she felt his mouth, fleshy and warm against hers. She responded to the stiffness of his tongue as he explored her mouth. This felt different from most of the boys she had kissed before. This felt really grown-up. They stood for a few minutes, holding each other, gently kissing. Then the light drizzle that had begun as soon as they started walking turned into a heavy downpour. Elsie pulled her thin coat tightly around her, but her hair began to drip into her eyes and she couldn’t stop shivering.
‘Bugger!’ Stan said. ‘What a bloody nuisance. I suppose we can’t just stand here and get wet.’
‘Too late,’ Elsie said, putting her hand to her already bedraggled hair. ‘I reckon I’d best get on home.’
‘I’ll walk you back,’ Stan offered. ‘Maybe it’ll stop.’
‘Yes, and pigs might fly!’ Elsie laughed, as they set off at a brisk pace.
Stan reached for her hand and held it in his, although this time he didn’t try to put it into his pocket. ‘Do you fancy going out on Sunday?’ he asked.
‘Out? What, like together?’
‘Yes, of course together.’
‘Where to?’
‘I dunno. I could meet you by the factory gate after dinner. We can go for a walk. I’ll think of somewhere to go by then.’
Elsie hesitated, then she said quietly, ‘It’s me birthday on Sunday. I’ve never been out on me birthday before.’ She wasn’t sure why she had told him that.
‘Well, in that case you can’t say no.’
Overcome by a sudden shyness, Elsie smiled.
‘Tell you what – can you ride a bike?’ Stan asked.
‘A bike? I don’t know as I’ve ever tried. But I’ve not got one anyway, so it makes no difference.’
‘No, but I’ve got one and I can lend you me brother Charlie’s. I bet I could soon teach you to ride.’
Elsie frowned, not sure if he was being serious. Riding a bike wasn’t something she’d ever thought of doing. Not recently, at any rate; she had longed to have a go when she was a kid. Fay had once found a tricycle on the tip. It didn’t have a seat and the handlebars were a bit wonky, but they had taken turns to ride it standing up while desperately trying to steer. She had ended up with the bike on top of her when it had tipped over as she tried to turn a corner, and that was the end of it. Since then, she had never attempted to ride again. She certainly had never tried on a real bike that only had two wheels.
‘We could go out on to the moors,’ Stan said.
Elsie hesitated, considering his suggestion, but he was persistent. ‘Tell you what, if you want to meet me tomorrow I could teach you to ride in no time. I’ll keep hold of the seat till you get the hang of it. It won’t take long, I’m sure.’
Elsie wasn’t at all sure, but she was willing to give it a go. It would be exciting to do something special for her birthday.
‘Do you know Coronation Street?’ Stan asked.
Elsie did know it. Coronation Street wasn’t that far from Back Gas Street, but they might as well have been on opposite poles they were so different. Coronation Street was a tidy row of neat terraces that had been built to house the workers from the old Hardcastle mill, which had long since shut and was now the raincoat factory. The residents who lived there now were ordinary working folk, just like she was, but Coronation Street had a proud air about it, everyone seeming to sense they were lucky to live there. It was very different from the squalid slums that were all she knew.
‘Of course, why?’
‘Because it’s got a good stretch of fairly flat cobbles. And that lot are so houseproud they always clear up the horse dung after the milkman’s been, so it’s never too slippery. You’ll be able to learn right quick there. And there’s a good straight run from one end of the street to the other.’
‘I don’t know—’ Elsie began, but Stan wasn’t listening.
‘There’s a slight slope that you’ll have to pedal up, but on the way down all you have to do is steer. Tell you what – why don’t I meet you at the factory gates, like I said, and I’ll bring the bike. We can walk to Coronation Street from there.’
Elsie wasn’t at all convinced she would be able to do it. To her, it sounded a crazy idea, but Stan was so enthusiastic she didn’t want to be a spoilsport and say no.
‘If I learn how to do it, can we really go out for my birthday?’ she asked, spurred on by the thought of such a treat.
‘Like I said, it could be fun. And me brother need never know I’ve borrowed his bike.’
Elsie for once was speechless. No one had ever done anything special for her birthday before. So that made her more determined than ever that by Sunday she would learn how to ride a bike.
By Sunday morning the rain had stopped. Elsie couldn’t see out clearly through the grime on their bedroom window, but when she made her way downstairs she couldn’t hear any rain pattering against the glass pane. She was up even earlier than usual, wanting to make the day stretch out as long as possible even though nobody else in the house would be stirring for another couple of hours. She was determined to enjoy every minute of her birthday. Others down at the factory were forever talking about the things they had done to celebrate their birthdays; now, for the first time in her life, she wanted to be able to experience what it was to feel pampered and special. She wanted to go back to work on Monday morning and talk about what she had done and how much she had enjoyed herself on her big day. And Stan Walsh was going to make sure she did.
As she cautiously descended the stairs, however, she felt as if the day was already less than perfect. It might be her birthday, but she still had to do her early morning chores. Collect the water from the pump in the courtyard. Set up the cauldron. Rake out the ashes and get a new fire going in the grate. She needed to get through as much as she could and be gone from the house before anyone else was awake.
As she got dressed, she wished she could have worn something different. But that of course was impossible. She was by far the tallest in the family so she couldn’t even pinch anything from one of her siblings. At least today she didn’t have to cover up her dress with her work overalls or wear a wretched headscarf. The flowered print of her cotton dress had once been quite pretty, she thought as she smoothed her hands over the tight-fitting bodice and gathered skirt, but that was before all the flowers had faded. The only